Tears of the Angel
by Aleriaxx
Summary: Summer is a mutation, a bird kid. But when Max and the flock escape with Jeb, she is not one of them. She is still trapped, trapped in the hellhouse called the School. And it is not long before she is put in the Itex headquarters, and finally gets a taste of freedom when Max and the flock rescue her. The story behind the winged girl Max found in the Itex headquarters. No slash.


**The first part will have horrible grammar and be in short sentences, because she cannot talk or think properly. The grammar slowly gets better until finally, she can speak fluently. Please review. **

Dark Glasses is here again. Dark Glasses opens The Cage. Dark Glasses takes my arm. Opens door.

Clipboard says '_Subject13brainactivity.' _Subject. 13. Brain. Activity. I can read.

The light is too bright. I close my eyes. I do not want to go into the light. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts-

I wake up to see Blonde Hair and Beard. Blonde Hair puts something on my mouth. No. No. I do not want it. Take it off. I push. Take it off, I say. Blonde Hair says 'Quiet.' I know quiet. I be quiet. I do not want the Pain.

Beard is looking at a picture on a clipboard. Talks to Blonde Hair. Laughs. I do not like the Laugh. It is too loud. Beard holds the needle. Needle is Pain. I do not want Pain. I do not want it. No. I will be good. I will be quiet. No. No Pain. Please. I will be good. No-

I feel it. Everything is black.

I open my eyes. Something is not Right. I feel not Right. Sick. I am still under the bright light. It is Pain. There is no Blonde Hair or Beard. My wings are Pain. My legs are Pain. My face is Pain. All is Pain. Door opens. No Hair comes in. There is also another. I do not know this one. Shiny Glasses, I will call him Shiny Glasses. Shiny Glasses walks here. Shiny Glasses sits next to the bed. Shiny Glasses looks at me. Smiles. No Hair stays back.

"Hello," he says. I stare. Hello.

"Hello," I say. My voice is Small. He smiles.

"I told you she was smart," he tells No Hair. No Hair makes Bad face.

"My name is Jeb Batchelder," Shiny Glasses tells me. I think. My name. What is my name?

"My name is Subject 13," I tell Jeb. Jeb beams.

"Hensely," Jeb says to No Hair. "Look at that. Did you give her lessons?"

"No, sir."

"She learned it by herself. Can you believe it?" Jeb says. "Give me her papers." Hensely gives Jeb papers. Jeb looks. "How old is she?"

"Twelve." Jeb flips through the papers. "No defectiveness? Not in her wings?"

"No, sir." Jeb keeps looking through the packet.

"Is this all?" he asks.

"They've already scheduled for her removal." Jeb makes Bad face.

"To the headquarters?"

"Yes." I do not understand.

Later they take me back to Dark, to The Cage. I look through the Cage. I look at Fish Eyes. I call, Fish eyes, wake up.

He does not answer.

Fish eyes is gone. They took him away. Jeb comes next day and next day and next day. Every day he comes. Takes me Out. Reads to me. I'm getting better at words. I can read to him too. Every day.

But one day he does not come and he does not come. I shake the bars. I call, Jeb, Jeb. He does not come. I hear two White Coats talking. I hear 'Jeb' and 'Missing' and 'Missing Subject 1, 2, 3, 5, 7, and 11'. I understand. I cry. Shake the bars. My hands are covered in red. I write in red on the floor, 'Jeb'.

I write with anything. I use blood, I use spit, I use scraps of paper torn from clipboards. I read the labels on every single cage in the room while everyone watches with curious eyes. I read things I see on whitecoat clipboards, and listen to their conversations. I recite the label on the cages over and over-'Kanine Kennel-Good Kennels for good dogs' until I could say it in my sleep. I talk and read and write.

There are Erasers, I can see them from the one window in the Dark Room. I watch them eat red meat through the window. One catches my eye, the biggest. I hear someone calling him Ari. I shudder.

One day they ship huge crates into the fenced area where the Erasers hungrily await, clawing at the chain link fence. The door opens, and the crates are opened and dumped in. I can not see clearly through the mass of howling Erasers, but I see the furry black things that they toss into the air and grab in their mouths, that they teasingly allow to scramble away before grabbing them by their rear and digging their claws into the flesh. Chimpanzees. A spray of blood lights up the air and I quickly turn away, pressing my hands over my ears to drown out the screeches, screaming so loud that the others stir in their cages. Through my closed eyelids I can still see the blood splattered across the Erasers' muzzles. I keep screaming until a whitecoat comes in to stab a syringe into my arm. Then I gladly sink into darkness.

The next day, the entire Eraser area is quiet as the Erasers sleep after their bloody meal. The only sign of the chimpanzee massacre is the light rusty splatter of blood on the fence, and the tufts of black fur caught between the chain link. I look away.

Not so long after, the door opens and a few whitecoats come in. I flinch when they near my cage, but they do not look at me. One wheels a cart by a crate-I recognize the inhabitant, a small boy who has flaking, patchy skin. Some parts of his body are missing skin entirely. His cart is roughly tossed onto the cart, and they roll him away. I see that he does not cry out or struggle. He knows his fate, and there is grim acknowledgment in his bloodshot eyes. The door closes. He is gone.

Moments later he appears outside the window. The gate opens. The crate is unlatched. The Erasers draw in. This time, I snap my head back before I can see the first blood. This time, there is no cry. This time, all I hear is crunching of bone and growls of the Erasers.

I throw up.

"It's always hard the first time," a voice rasps. I gag, spit, then turn from my crouch to face the speaker. It is the small, skinny girl who sits in the cage diagonal to me. Her ragged hair-I cannot tell the color in the dark-hangs around her large, hollow eyes and small, thin face. She's huddled up in the corner of her crate, watching me. I've never noticed her before.

"I didn't know you could talk," I whisper back, my voice hoarse from the bile. The large room is already stinking of the sour vomit. She gives a dry laugh that sounds more like a cough.

"Most of us do. We're just too afraid to use it." her voice is raspy, but I can detect a sweet, rich one underneath.

"Did someone teach you?"

"No. I taught myself." I inspect her closely, amazed. I don't see anything mutated about her, though there might be wings underneath the gown.

"Do you have wings?" I question, shaking out my own. She feebly rolls back her scrawny shoulders, showing that no, there is nothing attached to her back.

"They've never experimented on me," she murmurs. "I've never left this room. I've never walked, never gotten out of this crate. I was born in here. I don't know why they don't come" Her dull eyes search me.

"What's the outside like?" she whispers desperately. I shake my head.

"The surgery room isn't much. I haven't been outside either." She looks away.

"What other things did they do to you?"

"Just lots of shots. I sleep through each process."

"What mutations do you have?"

"No idea. All I know are the shots." We look at each other, laugh dryly.

"They can't keep me in here forever, right?" she mutters, stretching her skinny legs through the bars. I look at them. They have never walked. "Did they forget about me?" She looks so upset.

"Believe me," I say. "you want it to stay that way."

**Please review!**


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